Chicklette pic

It's really hard to not just gobble her up completely:

She's here!

Sorry for the radio silence...it's been a crazy few days! But she's here! The chicklette arrived on December 23rd at 11:15 a.m., weighing in a 6 pounds, 7 ounces. I'll post much more about her birth, but long story short -- it went much more smoothly than I ever could have anticipated. Of course, it was also aided by a very strong epidural administered by the most wonderful man on the planet (a.k.a. the anesthesiologist).

She's beautiful, we're smitten, but unfortunately are still in the hospital due to an unfortunate spit-up-swallowing-then-turning-blue episode that happened approximately 5 seconds after we got home from the hospital on Christmas Day. Everything looks to be fine, but we've been "under observation" for the past couple of days. Hopefully we'll be going home tomorrow.

Much more to come!

And away we go!

Just got back from the doctor....I'm moderately effaced, 1 cm dilated, and HEADED TO THE HOSPITAL IN TWO HOURS. They're going to give me cytotec tonight to ripen my cervix (that just sounds gross to me for some reason), and if all goes well start the pitocin early in the morning.

All of the sudden I'm a leetle beet nervous about this birth that I supposedly haven't been nervous about. This is definitely the most exciting birthday I've ever had....

STILL no baby, so we shop (and celebrate a birthday)

After several hours of contractions and painful baby movement last night, I find myself once again this morning with no labor signs and of course no baby. Ugh. I keep telling myself every time I start contracting that it's probably nothing, but it's hard for us not to get our hopes up. The poor Mr. is walking around like a zombie this morning, having been awake and excited all night. I guess it's a preview, but still...kind of frustrating.

So, I guess things will either kick in today or tomorrow (which is my birthday). In the meantime, I think I'll head out today and do a little last minute Christmas shopping/puttering around. I'm sure it's going to be a madhouse out there, but being in my actual house is driving me mad. There are only so many episodes of House and Gossip Girl that I can watch -- which I didn't think possible.

And we will try to get back to our happy place -- after all, we'll be parents in a couple of days, which is pretty darn exciting.

I hope that everyone's enjoying their holiday prep!! I can't believe it's only 4 days until Christmas....

Still no baby, so we eat!

Yeah, so, still no baby. Lots of contractions, many false alarms, and enough spicy-food induced heartburn to keep a Tums factory in business.

I swing between being totally zen (she'll get here when she gets here, this is our first taste of our plans not being our own, etc.) and completely despondent (she'll never come, something is wrong, I am a FAILURE because my body apparently DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO, etc.). I'm also not thrilled about being induced, but not because I'm worried about the induction itself. I just don't want to wait until Wednesday!

Anyhoo, so we've been trying to take advantage of the quiet time, since I finished my Christmas shopping and nursery prep weeks ago. Movies, walks, sexy time (not that it's that sexy, but it's probably the best we're going to get for a while), dinners out and random puttering around the house. It's kind of nice in a way. We've also given up on calling anyone unless absolutely necessary, because we get the breathless "IS THERE A BABY YET??" from everyone -- including, oddly enough, the cat groomer, who apparently my mother has on high alert.

Tonight we decided to relish our little remaining adult time by having a modified version of the Christmas Eve dinner that, one way or another, I won't be in any shape to cook this year. I come from a large extended Italian family, so Christmas Eve is all about seafood. Normally, I make a dinner with a bunch of courses and appetizers, basically squeezing in as many kinds of fish as possible. Since there are lot of fish that I probably shouldn't be eating, and my stomach capacity is about the size of a walnut right now, we're just going to go with our favorite course -- Linguini with White Clam Sauce, served with hot crusty bread. Yum. Because I can't be bothered to deal with cleaning or prepping live clams (plus, no need to screw around with potential food poisoning right now), I'm doing the ultra-easy version. Recipe is below for anyone who's interested.

Of course, this probably means I'll go into labor tonight, puking clams and garlic all the way. But it would be SO WORTH IT.

Merry early Christmas Eve!

Linguini with White Clam Sauce (Serves 2 as a main course)

4 6.5 oz cans minced clams (I'm partial to Snow's brand)

4 cloves garlic, minced

Olive oil, enough to coat the bottom of a small saucepan

Small handful fresh Italian parsley, chopped (you could also use a couple of tablespoons of dried)

Juice of one lemon

Splash of white wine (I used Pinot Grigio, but whatever dry white you like to drink would work)

Salt and pepper to taste

Heat olive oil at medium high heat in bottom of small saucepan. Add garlic, saute until golden. Add clams (with all juice in can), lemon juice, wine, parsley and pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Let simmer for 20 minutes or so, then add salt to taste. Sauce can be made early in the day, and reheated, or served immediately over linguini with warm crusty bread to sop up the juices.

Due date

Well, here we are. December 16th. It's your birthday, baby! Come on out!

We had our 40 week appointment yesterday. Long story short: my OB didn't check me, since she won't induce us any earlier than 41 weeks and if I'm not contracting it doesn't really matter at this point how dilated I am. So my next appointment is Tuesday the 22nd (my birthday), and we're talking induction on the 23rd if she hasn't arrived by then.

I've actually been feeling pretty normal, aside from another big nasty yet fascinating chunk of mucous plug on Monday. I'm skeptical that anything's going to happen on its own. But I'm still hopeful.

Off to the gym, to see if I can walk this baby out. Out out out!

The Girl Who Cried "Baby"

On Friday I became that girl. The girl who cried "baby."

It started off as a normal day. I got up at 6:30, worked for a couple of hours, and headed to the gym. Of course I had to pee when I got there (that 5-minute drive sure is a killer), so I headed into the ladies room. I did my thing, followed by the customary toilet-paper analysis routine, and -- what's that? Could it be? Could that be part of a mucous plug? That smear of snot-like material? I wiped again and found more, and then more after that, and decided that yes, indeed, this was probably part of the plug.

Knowing that this didn't necessarily mean anything imminent is happening, I proceeded with my workout as usual (40 lame minutes at a lame pace on the lame lowest setting of the elliptical trainer).

And then things started to get weird. My regular 39-week lower back pain got noticeably more painful, and I started to feel some mild pressure on my pelvis. I had a prenatal massage scheduled, so I went to that, where the pelvic pain progressed to the point where I almost couldn't roll from one side to the other on the table, get off the table at the end of the massage, or get back into my clothes. The massage therapist was convinced I was in early labor.

On the way home, the pelvic pain got worse, and I started to shake and my teeth started to chatter. I called the Mr. and told him I thought maybe he should think about taking the afternoon off. I called my mom and asked her to come over for a bit. I even told my boss (it was my last official day of working from home before my leave) that I might not make it to an afternoon conference call. I sat on my yoga ball and rolled and breathed, and tried to wrap up some work stuff.

The pain and pressure got worse as the day wore on, but I never felt anything that seemed like a contraction, so decided to wait it out and not call my doctor. I spent the afternoon lying on the couch, watching old episodes of Grey's Anatomy, and having the Mr. help me up when I needed to pee. I ate a bland lunch Just In Case. I napped, exhausted, and went to bed early.

And woke up on Saturday.

Feeling great!

But kind of like an ass. I'm pretty sure that this baby is going to be crowning before I call anyone else to tell them I think I might be in labor.

Meanwhile, it's two days later and still no baby. No bloody show, no meaningful contractions, no more plug action. There's been yoga and walking and sex and spicy food and various pleas directed towards the belly, but no sign of baby.

Kid, you've got 3 more days before I am Officially Impatient. You hear me?

Can anyone say....nesting?

Since I've been "working from home" for the last week, I have been in a bit of a frenzy. Packing the hospital bag, tweaking the nursery, doing baby laundry, wrapping Christmas presents, assembling baby seats and swings and monitors....you name it, I've done it. When coupled with all of the baby-eviction activities, it does seem to add up to quite a lot of busy days.

But what is the most scary is the cooking. I have an irrestible urge to cook and freeze. And cook and freeze some more. Here's what's been cooking so far:

Split Pea Soup
Butternut Squash Soup
Bolognese Sauce
Meatballs (triple batch)
Pesto Sauce
Chicken Soup
Quiche (actually, a friend made this, but it's in there)

Every day I evaluate the freezer to see what else I can fit in. The little stacks of Gladware containers are so pleasing to me -- it's got to be pathological somehow. But it is pleasing, right? RIGHT?

Tomorrow I'm thinking of trying one more recipe....

Or maybe two.

Eviction notice

I know it's still 9 days until my due date, but we served our first eviction notice on the chicklette last night.

One of our local pizza joints, Skipolini's, has this concoction called the "Prego Pizza." It's rumored to have some sort of legendary labor-inducing properties. I put down 3 slices of this legend, and needless to say I am still here, not in labor. Although I would now like to be evicted from my own body, as I deal with the aftermath of 6 different kinds of meat, plus extra garlic and onions. Ugh! (I have a couple of slices left over in the fridge, and am debating whether I can handle eating it for lunch. I'm thinking no, but we'll see. Pizza is pizza.)

Other things we've tried this weekend: walking, yoga, pressure point massage, and yes, sex. Well, sort of sex. There's not really room for any extra people in there right now, so we sort of improvised. Which was nice, except the baby seemed a little TOO into it, if you know what I mean. She shouldn't be thinking about these things for at LEAST 18 more years.

It's not that I don't love hosting our little nugget, or that I've had a particularly terrible time of it or anything. But I'm cranky and uncomfortable, and ready to have this childbirth thing over with so that I can start obsessing about other things. I'm sure I will look back and think I was crazy to ever want to give up this tranquil end-of-pregnancy waiting period, but I guess maybe I've had enough waiting at this point (a sentiment that I'm sure many readers can identify with).

So, anyway, here I wait. With a heart full of anticipation, and a tummy full of meat.

38 weeks (gulp)

I've only got 2 weeks to go. Yikes.

I had my OB appointment yesterday, which I dreaded for about a week, thinking I'd be getting my first cervical check courtesy of the least gentle hands in the Bay Area. Turns out Dr. Miss Sunshine doesn't do internals until you're overdue or your water breaks, since they don't really tell you anything about when you might actually go into labor. So that was nice.

We did get to get another peek via ultrasound to make sure the Chicklette was still head down (which she is, and which I didn't doubt for a second, as the feeling of a skull grinding into your pelvis is a pretty singular sensation). We also confirmed that the appendage digging into my left ribs is indeed a foot (or maybe a hand -- all four limbs appear to be clustered over there), and that the hard area on my right side is a spine and baby booty. Pretty neat.

Anyway, I think I crossed the line yesterday and am now more physically uncomfortable with her inside of me than I am anxious about having her outside of me. I'm sure I'll be regaling you all with the various crazy things I will be doing over the next couple of weeks to try and encourage her arrival (Step 1: yoga tonight). Not only would I like my body back, but I also wouldn't mind not spending Christmas (or my birthday 3 days before) in the hospital.

Oh, and I guess I'd also like to meet my daughter. Almost forgot that minor detail!